Lines of Power
by redex
Summary: KiteKai.  There are different kinds of strength, and sometimes someone else has one you can’t live without.


Kite had never understood what was wrong with being the son of a yakuza. It was just like every other job. Just like the sons and daughters of doctors were bugged for health advice, he was always being questioned as to his father's work. He wasn't too fond of "hanging out" with people, so he didn't notice that most people stayed out of his way in the halls. If his classmates were differential towards him, he assumed it was simply because he was the captain of the martial arts club. He kept his shirt tucked in, arrived to class on time, and kept decent marks in all his classes, so none of the teachers ever had to go through the stress of speaking to his parents. 

It wasn't until he had started the tennis club that he ever invited someone over to his house. In fact, he hadn't actually invited them, they had just decided to invite themselves. They were all punks and rebels, but under Kite's iron discipline they had learned how to put that violent edge to good use. He was proud when his father congratulated him on winning regionals and thought that perhaps he was truly fit to be his father's heir.

He had told his mother to expect them over. The servants cooked some extra food, sans gouya, and laid out some extra futons. He surprised himself by being nervous without really knowing why. He hadn't even been nervous when he had got the first part of his tattoo, the outside lines of a dragon that curled around his chest and finished along his thigh. He would have it colored and the details would be put in once he graduated from high school and started his training as heir. For now it was just an insinuation of power, a black etching of strength in his skin. Finishing high school was his mother's demand, and his father had been raised to respect a woman's demands, so the young Kite would too. To see his mother's eyes light up when he brought his friends home was a pleasure he did not feel every day.

Although the Higa Chuu tennis team did not survive the trials and challenges of high school, Kite's friendship with Kai, surprisingly, did. By the time Kite had become comfortable calling Kai his friend he had also realized the reality of his father's activities. It was with more appreciative eyes that he watched Kai greet his father and listened to their talk. He could appreciate, now, how much courage and determination this boy had shown with his decision to become the yakuza boss' son's friend. It was exactly the kind of courage that Kite wished he had.

Kai was there for the ceremonial final to his tattoo, not saying anything when Kite's calloused fingers clenched against the sheet as the needle went across bone. And when it was over and he was forced to lay on his stomach for a few days Kai came to visit, bearing video games and comic books to distract him. He spent the intervening hours wondering why the false redhead had chosen him, and, more importantly, why he had chosen Kai. He was still as indifferent to most other people, and he still disliked socializing, so why did he feel himself anticipating Kai's step on the mats every day?

Kite was never one made for brooding and one night, when he was finally able to sit upright and watch the moon come up, he simply started speaking. He knew Kai was listening from where he was sprawled on the floor, could feel his gaze prickling the back of his neck. He said it all into the night, all his questioning and all his fears.

He didn't know why Kai stayed with him, but he didn't want him to go.

Finally, finally, his spring of words became dry and he looked down at the ancient wood of his family home. He felt hollow and vulnerable for the first time in his life and wondered if he should regret saying all of that out loud. Fortunately, it was then that Kai leaned around his shoulder, plucked off his glasses, and kissed him on the lips. He found himself kissing back before he even before he knew what was going on, and gasped when Kai pulled away to laugh bitterly.

"Even though the glasses make ya look smart, ya still are the stupidest person I know."

Kai, the bravest person Kite knew, was backing away from him while he sat there blinking, and he realized everything at once all in one perfect moment of understanding. It was only one moment that the light shone upon his face, and then he reached out and grabbed the front of Kai's shirt and yanked him forward against his chest. Where the boney arms banged against his bandaged tattoo he gasped, but he didn't stop kissing, knowing that if he did he would have to face the consequences of his actions. Just like Kai had known when he had kissed him the first time. Once again, Kite was not as brave as he wished he could be. He had passion, but it was only released in the most explosive of ways. He would be second to Kai once again.

Like now, when he was pushing Kai onto his back, sliding his thigh against his crotch, feeling their chests rub together with light fabric in between. How could he have held this so far from himself for so long? How had he not _noticed_ ? His questions disappeared as Kai's fingers dug into his scalp and his breathless laughter echoed against his throat. When Kai lay on the floor beside him, he wondered if Kai wanted to join his father's group, and he wondered if his father would let him. He wondered if he would ever be able to tell his family about this, assuming that this continued. He wondered if Kai would have the courage to stay Kite's right-hand man even if he got married. He wondered and closed his eyes and finally realized why his team had lost in nationals and why they had not stuck together for the years following. He had been missing this compassion, this empathy. He had been missing Kai.


End file.
